New York, FBI precinct.
Whether it is the Washington General Bureau, or where the FBI branch, there is never a shortage of hurried FBI investigators, and even more so, there is no shortage of FBI investigators spinning in their chairs.
In the conference room, an FBI agent in a suit sat at a rectangular conference table, propping his chin with his hand and waving a pen in his hand. "So, we need to raise the level of response to this 'white-haired Asian minor'?"
Projector in the front of the meeting projected more than a dozen pieced together photos, almost every one is hastily photographed, with a few blurred, but you can distinguish the appearance of the person photographed features: white hair, Asian, red eyes, smile.
At present, the FBI on the white-haired Asian code name is 'Master'.
...Follows the name of the highway killer James.
In all the photos, 'Master' was smiling, as if he had only one smiling expression, his mouth always upturned, his eyes always curved, looking gentle and courteous, gentlemanly, looking at the photographer as if he were looking at an adorable, ignorant child, at a gentle lamb.
The shooter is a passerby.
New York's surveillance coverage is relatively moderate, and the 'Master' obviously has excellent skills to avoid the security cameras, the police department checked for several days, but did not find his clear figure in all the security footage, even in the mall with James traveling together, there are only a lot of surveillance footage of James happened to block him.
At the front of the meeting, Jodie, who was chairing the meeting, smiled slightly: "Yes, the 'Master' that James was so afraid of as if he had lost his dog."
The suited FBI man made a point of emphasizing the 'white-haired Asian minor', actually with a touch of sarcasm, but he put away his contemptuous attitude after Jodie spoke, "Uh, yeah, I know,
"He's at my school," He struggled to make it clear that it wasn't that he was being overly dismissive, provoking to the authority of his boss who had declared that 'this criminal was to be taken seriously', but that this criminal was truly contemptible, "Definitely the type that would be bullied to death, and he's..."
"Yeah," Jodie affirmed again, looking straight at the suited FBI, "keeps smiling mildly, like a goon, doesn't he?"
"But he made James a goon, do you want to see James again?"
None of the other fbi's said anything, the fbi in the suit snapped and bowed his head, "I'm sorry, sir."
Bowing down to a younger-than-life, very pretty blonde sweetheart would have gotten him a few handfuls of the most typical American schoolyard bullying in the suit's schoolyard, but not Jodie's. She was one of the elite few in the New York precinct, and she was the only one who had the right to be there.
She's one of the elite few in the New York division.
She inherited her father's legacy, and with the support of the FBI's top brass, she's made her way to the middle of the ranks, and is now one of the FBI's youngest and most promising recruits.
After the New York FBI branch threw more than a dozen elite FBI investigators to Tokyo and received death notices without exception, and contributed their own insignificant backbone to the bloody inferno that shocked the international community, there is a great scarcity of capable investigators.
Special measures for special times.
Nowadays, as long as they have the right skills, most of the elite FBI agents can steadily rise up the ranks and quickly have the space to utilize their abilities in cases.
Suit FBI is not one of them, but Jodie is.
This kind of elite role in the limelight is not to be messed with, the suit FBI added humbly, "It's my fault for not thinking carefully, I thought he didn't cause too much damage, compared to the recent serial killings, even didn't cause any media and public attention, should be able to let it go properly."
Those fresh serial killings that caused a sensation and public attention are the highest priority.
Next are the less publicized, urgent cases.
And lastly, cases that don't make a lot of noise and don't involve a lot of killing.
-According to James, the only victim in the 'Master' case was an unlucky man who ran off in his own car, so whether it's a homicide or not, the boundaries are a little fuzzy.
"And all the victims are criminals."
Jodie added, still smiling, with a sharp edge to her smile, "Criminals meet guys like this, it's karma, that's what you're trying to say, isn't it?"
"Don't think of the case in the usual way, this is obviously an unusual and talented criminal, the criminal's target is the common man, his target is the criminal,"
"It's still a small fight now, but with a guy like this, do you really think he'll stay in obscurity forever? Open your eyes and look at the pictures, darling. He's already famous,"
"All these pictures were taken by citizens who met him by chance and took them without knowing a thing about him, but just thought he was very handsome and wanted to take a picture of him."
"Is that good? Of course!" She held back her stupidity and patiently said, "The looks are so good, so good as to become a feature, that it's no longer as hard for us to catch a trace of him as a needle in a haystack,"
"But use your brain to think about it, once he made a big case, the media public, put these photos on the time..."
"Do you want a star criminal?!"
Star criminal.
Perhaps out of admiration for the strong, perhaps out of some kind of curiosity, there are a lot of people in the states who admire murderers, when a criminal's skills are cooler, or the reason for killing is more understandable, or handsome, or has his own set of views that are very different from the world's views, and tastes good enough to make some people who don't have a clear mind think, 'wow, that's cool, bro! and they'll attract enough fanboys and fangirls.
There are many imitators.
Some celebrity criminals are so proud of themselves that they write autobiographies that sell like hotcakes when they go on sale.
Every celebrity criminal is a blow to the authorities, to the police, to the FBI, to the general public.
"Think about the components of this 'Master'!"
'Only kills criminals', 'never kills anyone himself', 'turns vicious highway killers into puppies that only wail and wag their tails', 'intelligent criminals', 'handsome and elegant gentleman's appearance'.
Together, once the 'Master' gets the attention of the public, there's only one way to go: star criminal.
The suited FBI immediately silenced himself, collected all his little thoughts, got serious, and apologized earnestly, "I'm sorry, sir."
He gazed at the projected wall at the front of the room, no longer belittling it, and analyzed it very solemnly, "He's got a good temper, and that's bad news."
In the center of the various photos taken, either secretly or openly, was a few seconds of motion picture left by an extraordinarily impolite but, in the FBI's opinion, very brave photographer, who appeared to call out to the 'Master', whereupon he turned his head sideways and smiled at the camera.
"James reported a hotel, said he'd heard the name on the 'Master's' lips, shall we...?"
"Never mind," he said, quickly giving up, 'since James gave the name, the 'Master' must have left."
They didn't have to go.
At the very end of the meeting, a voice suddenly said, "Go."
The suited FBI man looked back and saw a green-eyed FBI colleague sitting in the most inconspicuous corner of the room, and recognized him: Akai Shūichi.
Like Jodie, Akai Shūichi was an excellent recruit for the New York FBI division, but he didn't seem to want to move up the ladder, and was ostensibly in a lower position than Jodie.
But anyone who's worked with him knows that he's a great talent.
The brilliant man stared at the projected wall and met the smiling eyes of this 'Master' as he glanced over, "To the hotel."
"He'll leave a message there to provoke the FBI."